


Habits

by perplexed (orphan_account)



Series: Tumblr Ask Prompts [5]
Category: Smosh
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Porn, Drugs, M/M, Smoking, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4407710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/perplexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'I eat my dinner in my bathtub / Then I go to sex clubs / Watching freaky people gettin' it on / It doesn't make me nervous / If anything I'm restless / Yeah, I've been around and I've seen it all’</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Welp this turned into a far longer and angstier fic than I planned on it being!!
> 
> Thanks to [hxcox](http://hxcox.tumblr.com) on Tumblr for the AMAZING zongfic prompt of [Habits (Stay High) by Tove Lo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oh2LWWORoiM)!
> 
> All warnings are in the tags and I'm probably going to continue this soon so look out for more of this!!

_‘I eat my dinner in my bathtub_

_Then I go to sex clubs_

_Watching freaky people gettin' it on_

_It doesn't make me nervous_

_If anything I'm restless_

_Yeah, I've been around and I've seen it all’_

 

Anthony swished the rapidly cooling water around with his legs before reaching out to spoon pasta off the plate balanced on the side of his tub. In his other hand, he had a half-lit, nearly gone out, joint, which he took a lazy drag from after swallowing his food. He moved the plate onto the floor, making a mental note not to step in the remainder of his dinner, and lay back, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh.

 

“Five weeks, two days,” he murmured to himself, taking another lazy drag from his joint before unplugging the tub with his free hand and clambering out. Careful not to set fire to his towel, he wrapped it around his waist and finished his joint, extinguishing it in the ashtray that he left in the bathroom for occasions such as that one.

 

He got dressed as soon as he’d dried off, putting on a simple pair of black skinny jeans and a white shirt. It took him a moment to remember his keys and his phone, but Anthony found the presence of mind to pick them up and actually order an Uber. He waited outside for it, considering rolling another joint while he waited. He decided against it, and climbed into the Uber when it arrived.

 

Giving the address of a small, unassuming looking basement bar, Anthony sat back and gazed out of the window at the passing buildings, and later the neon lights of downtown LA. He couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, his fourth joint of the day leaving him feeling sick and tired of everything. He was just grateful he didn’t need to actually pay in cash, as it dawned on him that he’d only brought about twenty dollars with him.

 

He waited for the car to disappear back around the corner of the narrow alleyway before he approached the door, fishing a card out of his back pocket and showing it to the bouncer on the door, who stepped aside to let him in.

 

On the inside, the seedy bar was plusher than expected, with deep pile red carpets and dim candle lighting. Anthony knew the way well enough, following the stairs down, turning left at a T-junction in the corridor, and pushing open the black, heavy door at the end of the hall. Behind the guise of the seedy bar was a sex club, somewhere Anthony had never dreamed of going before his relationship with his boyfriend had ended. Somehow, on a drunken binge, he’d found himself there at five in the morning, and ended up becoming a member in a drunken stupor.

 

Taking a seat in a corner, on a worn black velvet armchair, Anthony took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings. He’d been surprised that it wasn’t all older couples when he’d first come into the club sober, but Anthony had been pleasantly surprised by the amount of young, good looking couples and singles who ended up there for one reason or another. He settled into his chair, looking through the dry ice smog that cloaked the place at a couple pressed against a wall, giggling shyly as they stripped each other of their clothing. Letting his eyes scan over the room, he fixed his gaze on a gay couple, probably a little older than him, and let it linger for a long while.

 

_‘I get home, I got the munchies_

_Binge on all my Twinkies_

_Throw up in the tub_

_Then I go to sleep_

_And I drank up all my money_

_Dazed and kinda lonely’_

 

Closing the door behind him, Anthony half-heartedly flipped the light on in his hallway. He had a joint hanging from his lips that he’d half smoked on the way up to his apartment, and he looked as tired as he felt, dark bags under his eyes belying that it was nearly four in the morning. His stomach growled and Anthony made a beeline for the kitchen, picking up a box of Twinkies he’d left on the counter earlier that week and sitting down, in the only half-lit kitchen, unwrapping one and shoving it into his mouth.

 

Six Twinkies later, and Anthony was getting up to rush to the bathroom, his stomach turning and churning. Six minutes later, after he’d finished being sick into the bathtub, he gazed into the mirror, ignoring how hollow his eyes looked and how gaunt he was. Anthony carded his hand through his hair and turned the lights off in his apartment, walking through to his bedroom and flopping down onto the bed, fully clothed and not caring one bit.

 

_‘Pick up daddies at the playground_

_How I spend my day time’_

 

Anthony swung his one leg back and forth as he sat on the bench a ways away from the playground. His other leg was crossed underneath the swinging one’s thigh, and he had a cigarette in his hand. He couldn’t remember when he’d picked up the filthy habit, but apparently five weeks and three days was long enough to build up a problem with smoking. At least it wasn’t weed, he rationalised as he fished his lighter from his pocket and lit his cigarette, taking a short drag.

 

“Mind if I sit here?” A brusque voice rose up from beside him, and Anthony looked over at the older man who was gesturing to the seat next to him. The man was carrying a child’s backpack, and a small girl was running away from him, towards the playground. Anthony shrugged a shoulder up in response and went back to smoking.

 

_‘Loosen up the frown,_

_Make them feel alive_

_Oh, make it fast and greasy_

_I'm numb and way too easy’_

 

“Well, Anthony, it’s been a pleasure talking to you.” The older man, who Anthony had discovered was called John, stood up and, slyly, handed Anthony the piece of paper he’d been writing on for the past couple of minutes before leaving, his child in tow.

 

Anthony waited for John to be gone before he looked over the paper in his hand. Another number. He texted it a few hours later, idly asking if the man wanted to hook up, if he could get away from the wife Anthony knew he had, (judging from the ring on his finger.) The man responded with a curt ‘Yes’ and, half an hour later, he was pulling up outside Anthony’s apartment and beeping the horn of his car, gesturing for Anthony to get into the car.

 

They drove out of the city, to a secluded little piece of woodland that hadn’t yet burned down thanks to the high temperatures and drought. Instead of getting out of the car, Anthony climbed into the backseat and gestured for the older man to join him. Instead of climbing over the center console like Anthony had, John got out of the car and let himself into the back instead. Anthony’s mouth was instantly on his neck, mouthing at the supple skin slowly.

 

_‘Staying in my play pretend_

_Where the fun ain't got no end’_

 

Anthony sat back in his usual chair at the sex club, swirling a glass of wine around with one hand. He looked around, scanning the crowd for someone to pick out to go home with that night. His eyes settled on a man sitting a ways away from him, with brown hair that wasn’t quite as dark as his, and piercing, nervous eyes which darted around the room every few seconds.

 

He was new there, and that was perfect. Anthony drank down his wine and stood up, placing the glass on the table next to the chair, straightening out his shirt before ruffling his hair and heading over to the stranger. Boldly, he sat down opposite the stranger and extended his hand for a handshake.

 

“What brings you here?” He asked, voice raised just enough to be heard over the music thumping away over the speaker system. The stranger politely shook his hand before going back to looking around the room apprehensively.

 

“Same as you, I’m guessing. The obvious,” the stranger finally answered, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. Anthony mirrored the movement.

 

“Right.” Anthony paused to pull his cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one and watching as the smoke mingled with the dry ice in the room as he exhaled the first drag. “I’m Anthony.” He’d tried giving fake names, but none of them ever stuck, so he’d given up on them after a while. “Want a smoke?”

 

“No, thanks.” Anthony was close enough to see the man’s piercing blue eyes, shining in the darkness as they avoided his intense gaze. “I’m… I’m Ian,” the stranger nervously murmured.

 

“Nice name. Wanna get out of here, or are you here because you’re into being watched?” He’d learned from his conquests from the club that being straight-forward with no bullshit was the best way to get people to come home with him.

 

The stranger blushed furiously. Anthony couldn’t tell if he was just shy or if he hadn’t been expecting someone to approach him on what was doubtless his first visit.

 

“We could get out of here?” Ian suggested, and Anthony promptly stood up and started to saunter towards the door to the hallway, giving a quick glance behind him to make sure Ian was following him.

 

_‘Can't go home alone again_

_Need someone to numb the pain’_

 

Anthony was pleasantly surprised when Ian had started palming him through his jeans in the elevator up to his apartment. He’d been expecting the still stranger to bolt as soon as they got to his building, but the other man’s confidence seemed to have built up over the short Uber ride, during which they’d made small talk, mostly sitting in silence.

 

He grunted lightly as Ian pressed open mouth kisses to his neck and carried on groping at him through his jeans. Anthony gently shoved him away when the elevator halted and the doors opened, swaggering out as if he was on top of the world, when really his chest hurt and tears pricked at his eyes as he thought about his ex and another one night stand ending in nothing but loneliness at the end of it.

 

Shoving his shoulders back and straightening up, Anthony unlocked his door and didn’t even bother flipping the lights on, instead curling an arm around Ian’s waist and pulling him into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind them. Anthony pressed Ian against the wall, intent on taking control of the night, but the other didn’t seem to be protesting and instead let out a little moan as Anthony wedged his leg between his thighs and pressed upwards.

 

Ian ducked his head and started to nip and bite at Anthony’s neck and exposed collarbones from where he’d unfastened his shirt a small way in the Uber home; Anthony let out a contented hum at that, his hands worming their way between Ian’s ass and the cool wall behind him to grope at the soft, clothed flesh.

 

It didn’t take them long to do an awkward, stilted tango down the hallway and into Anthony’s bedroom. Once again, he declined to flick the lights on and instead left the room in almost darkness. Somewhere outside, a siren sounded as Anthony pushed Ian onto the bed and climbed on top of him, slipping between his legs easily as the other man spread his legs open wantonly.

 

“Tell me how bad you want it,” Anthony growled low in his throat, rutting primally down against Ian, who’s face flushed with colour.

 

“Please,” Ian started, “I want you.”

 

A pang of pain jolted through Anthony’s chest again, gripping at his ribs and tugging hard. He hadn’t actually managed to get that kind of thing out of anyone since his ex, and that reminder just served to leave him feeling emotionally crippled. Ian was looking at him curiously, as he’d stopped his ministrations.

 

“You alright?” He asked Anthony, reaching up and pushing his hand through Anthony’s hair. Anthony held in a derisive snort of laughter. This guy obviously hadn’t had enough one night stands yet to become jaded by it all.

 

“I’m fine.” With a shake of his head, Anthony continued grinding down against Ian, bucking his hips down almost viciously.

 

A few minutes passed before Anthony set about unclothing his partner for the night. He pulled away, kneeling up between Ian’s legs and motioning for the other to shed his shirt at least.

 

Ian wasn’t incredibly toned, but that was the way Anthony preferred his men: a little different to his own hard abs and toned shoulders. He could see the light blush on Ian’s face through the darkness, could just pick out the apprehension in his eyes.

 

“Are you alright?” Anthony murmured, as his hands worked to unfasten his shirt and get his jeans open. Ian nodded a few times, raising a hand to caress Anthony’s chest lightly once his shirt was discarded.

 

Anthony shrugged Ian’s hand away, and the other man pulled his arm back like he’d been burned. Anthony wasn’t there for cuddles and affection. What was the point when that always ended badly, and he felt numb all of the time anyway? Ian awkwardly put his hands down onto the comforter, fisting his fingers in the fabric just so his hands weren’t uselessly sitting there.

 

Busying himself with pulling his own jeans off, then moving to get Ian’s off along with his boxers, Anthony pushed the hurt in his chest to the back of his mind, pushed away the niggling voice that told him Ian obviously wanted more than he could emotionally give. Ian was still blushing, fighting the urge to lift his hands and cover himself. He felt entirely inadequate compared to Anthony, and it showed.

 

Anthony wasn’t there to provide counselling, though. He just wanted a quick fuck to numb the pain of being alone night after night, nothing more or less. As long as Ian was still consenting, that’s all Anthony cared about.

 

Ian’s fingers tightened in the bedsheets as Anthony fumbled in the drawers of his nightstand for lube and a condom.

 

“Nervous?” Anthony quipped, and Ian’s blush just darkened his face further, his cheeks feeling like small fires had been lit inside them. Unceremoniously, Anthony uncapped the lube and poured some onto his fingers, pressing two into Ian without so much as a kiss to the cheek.

 

Ian grimaced, out of discomfort rather than pain, and the indignity of the way Anthony was being. Anthony scissored his fingers apart and reached his other hand up to stroke Ian’s hardening cock. Emotionally invested he wasn’t, but the least he could do was give the guy a decent night to remember. Ian’s eyes fell closed and his head tipped back as Anthony fingered him open, his length twitching in Anthony’s hand slightly.

 

“Tell me you want it,” Anthony repeated, and Ian opened his eyes, able to pick out Anthony’s strong features through the streetlight that poured in through the window.

 

“Want it. Want you. Please…” Ian tipped his head back again as Anthony pressed his fingers deeper and grazed that small spot inside of him, his mouth falling open in a little ‘o’ shape.

 

Anthony took his hand off Ian when he was hard up against his stomach, one-handedly opening the condom with his teeth, (which he knew wasn’t the safest way to do things, but at that point he genuinely didn’t care what he caught or how he caught it if he was honest.) He rolled it on with a practiced precision and withdrew his fingers from Ian.

 

“Still okay?” He asked, and after a tense little nod from Ian, Anthony was pressing into him all at once. He didn’t give the other man time to adjust, snapping his hips backwards and forwards as the ache rose up in his chest again, just like it always did, as predictable as clockwork.

 

Ian was vocal, much more so than Anthony had given him credit for. He didn’t have the other man down as a moaner, but Ian was tossing his head back and groaning deep in his chest, then high in his throat, one hand staying fisted in the sheets while the other came up to tentatively touch at Anthony’s arm.

 

Anthony didn’t have the heart to push his hand away that time, and instead let the delicate touch linger for a while. The action just made his heart hurt more, but he tried to push that to the back of his head as best as he could. Normally, the people he picked up from the club were like him, desperate for a night that wasn’t spent alone and a little aggressive, but Ian seemed to be… Different. He was soft, and careful, and apprehensive. He didn’t have a bone of aggression in his body and seemed to just want to be held, and Anthony felt a little bad about his emotional inability to provide the contact the other man obviously wanted.

 

Every time Ian went to pull him down to kiss him, or wrapped his legs around Anthony’s waist, Anthony would find an excuse to move and avoid it or dislodge Ian’s legs from around him. It only took a few more minutes for Anthony to come, and he half-heartedly extended a hand to get Ian off as well before he slumped onto the bed, got rid of the lube and condom, and closed his eyes.

 

Ian had barely got his breath back by the time Anthony was lying down, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times dumbly before speaking.

 

“Is it okay if I stay the night?” Ian asked quietly, and Anthony shrugged a shoulder up.

 

“You can stay, if you want. Just be gone by morning.”

 

Anthony didn’t see Ian press his lips together and defeatedly slump his shoulders forwards before nodding.

 

“Okay, I will.”

 

\---

 

Anthony was surprised when he woke up the next morning and found Ian gone. He’d been expecting the other man to still be sleeping next to him, but he was glad that the stranger hadn’t overstayed his welcome. Swinging his legs out of bed, Anthony picked up his baggie of weed from his nightstand and deftly rolled a joint, lighting it and taking a long, deep drag.

 

He got up eventually, about halfway through his morning smoke, deciding not to put any boxers on before padding through his apartment. Anthony was picking dry cereal out of the box and eating it when he noticed a single, solitary note on his fridge that hadn’t been there the day before. Frowning, he picked it up and crumpled it into a ball, throwing it away without reading it.

 

 


End file.
